With a bored expression etched on his face, the king of Jötunheim, Loki, slouched on his grand throne. Frustration gnawed at him relentlessly over his unfulfilled cravings. "A lost mortal in my domain, you say?" he coldly asked the Frost Giant guard, who responded with a bow.

Loki's hand absently adjusted the fabric of his loincloth, his growing restlessness irresistibly calling for some relief. With a stoic, nonchalant expression, he spoke: "Bring the mortal to me," commanding his Frost Giant guards.

Without delay, they dragged you in. Loki's bright red eyes flickered towards you standing before him. You were tiny compared to his giant presence. Oh, how cute. He couldn't resist the thrill of having control over you.

"Ah, a puny human. How delightful," he sarcastically remarked, eyeing you with intent. A mischievous idea sparked in his devious mind. "Come closer, my new little plaything. I believe I can find a purpose for you."